No One Changes Like Gaston
by Sekhmet700
Summary: The Beast is dead. Belle's father is dead. All that Belle once loved is now gone, but can she find love once more, even if it comes from a most unlikely source?


"Reading again, I see," said a deep voice over her head.

Belle looked up from the worn-out pages only to see the silhouette of Gaston's head against the light that shone through the tree leaves above. She put a hand to her forehead to block the light and squinted, finally realizing who it was. This caused her to frown and immediately turn her attention back to her book, to which he merely laughed loudly and came around to stand before her.

She was seated on the ground against a little log and he plopped down with a thud, making himself quite at home although he was clearly uninvited. Belle tried to continue to read despite his irksome presence, but he brazenly extended a gloved hand to the pages and pulled the book away from her. What nerve!

"Gaston, that's mine!" she cried indignantly.

Unfazed, he laughed, "You shouldn't be reading so much."

"How do you know what I should be doing?" she snapped.

He was taken aback and his face clearly showed his surprise. A few months ago he would have retorted harshly, but he was different now that he had gotten the chance to reflect on his past misdeeds. Alas, Gaston the hunter had learned a hard lesson and had actually been (astonishingly, to all who knew him) humbled by past dramatic events. He had looked death in the eyes and escaped it by the grace of chance, or rather, the river.

"I mean – I _don't_," he blurted, unsure of what to say. "I don't know what you should … be … doing."

He trailed off mindlessly, mentally chiding himself for allowing his tongue to once again expel boorish sentiments that he knew all too well Belle despised. His bright blue eyes shone from under his dark brow as he slightly tilted his head down in remorse.

Belle narrowed her eyes and searched his face briefly, noticing something in it that she had never seen. Was the brash and over-confident Gaston actually sorry to have intruded upon her?

She said calmly, "That's right, Gaston, so I would appreciate that in the future you don't presume to dictate my actions."

The funny thing was that the only reason he had searched her out that morning was to apologize for all the trouble and grief he had caused before and during what the town now called the "Beast Affair". He had even rehearsed a few lines that he composed beforehand so as to sound as pleasant and articulate as possible when showing his contrition to Belle. But, of course, old habits die hard and he instead lapsed into his same old self, using the same old style of arrogance and lack of consideration.

He gathered his thoughts, straightened his back, and said very rapidly, "Belle, I came here today to say that I'm sorry for all I have done. I acted evilly to you, to your father, and to the Beast. I-I should have been the one to die that night and I know that now. I've been thinking about it a lot and I just wanted to let you know that. I don't care if you don't forgive me. I don't deserve it. I'm just … I'm just sorry."

He suddenly felt very awkward in her presence and made to get up, but a pale, slender hand touched his arm and he remained where he was.

Belle looked into his eyes and said, "I can see it in your eyes that you mean what you say. I forgive you."

Forgive him? Belle was astounded by her own words, for she had never imagined that she could say that to her lover's murderer, but she couldn't take it back now for it had already come out, and she was a woman of her word. She noticed she was still holding his arm, and upon that realization quickly retracted her hand and settled it in her lap. Gaston must have noticed the awkward movement, too, for he then seized the opportunity to quickly make his exit, leaving Belle alone and left to her thoughts.

A few more weeks had gone by and Belle neither saw nor heard anything of Gaston, though it didn't really matter to her because she had to suffer through another tragedy, this time it being the death of her father. A sudden pneumonia had taken him and, although he was gone, Belle took solace in knowing that he had not suffered long. Now she was left with an unmanageable farm, a cellar full of useless inventions, and a grinding loneliness that was softened only slightly by the handful of books she had managed to salvage from the Beast's castle.

On a pale morning in late summer Belle awoke rather later than usual. After she came downstairs she entered her tiny kitchen and, to her surprise, found two good-sized wild ducks bound together at the neck and lying on the chopping board. She cried out in surprise and immediately began to wonder who put them there. It couldn't have been the bookkeeper, nor could it have been Madame Bissette from down the road, for neither one of them had any money for such niceties. These ducks came from mountain lakes high above the village, so the only kind of person who could have brought them would have to be a hunter. Gaston!

Just as she realized who gave her the ducks, Gaston appeared in the doorway, taking up most of the space with his imposing frame. She politely smiled at him and before she could say anything he spoke.

"I brought you these, Belle. I hope you like them," he said, motioning to the fowl on the table. "I'm sorry they're not much."

His voice rumbled in its characteristic baritone, but there was something indecipherably softer about it, some odd change in its timbre that Belle noticed for the first time that morning.

She smiled and said, "Oh no, they're wonderful. Thank you Gaston. It must have been quite a trek to hunt them."

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and smirked to himself, "Oh, it was nothing out of the ordinary for me – off into the mountains, as usual."

He was hoping she would compliment him, but she remained silent, standing before him as though she were waiting for him to leave. He (amazingly) took the hint and began to retreat, but just before he disappeared he offered her something rather generous.

"Er, Belle?"

"Yes?"

"I've been gone these past few weeks because I was down South, but now that I'm back I wanted to know if you ever need extra help with the farm, or something. I offer you my services."

"Gaston, I have no money to pay you."

"Free of charge, Belle … if you will have me."

She needed to think about this proposal, for having more of Gaston in her life was perhaps not the cleverest idea Belle could conjure. After all, he was an arrogant ass! The things he was bound to say made her shudder in disgust, for how could he have really, truly changed after the fall, after all the things he had done? No one could completely change their personality. Of course she had said she forgave him, but she wasn't entirely sure that she truly believed her own words.

She suddenly looked into his eyes, those clear azure pools that, once upon a time, had a fire of threatening anger and deceit that raged beneath them, but that now were calm and placid like a millpond in a cool breeze. Those eyes reminded her of someone.

She bit her lip, slowly nodded, and said, "Alright, Gaston. I accept your offer."

He smiled widely and said excitedly, "Thank you Belle. Thank you."

"Gaston, this is very kind of you, but are you sure?"

For a moment he was silent, though his face bore no sign of apprehension. It seemed as though he were studying Belle's face, but for admiring her beauty alone or in search of her thoughts Belle could not discern.

He said assuredly, "I am. I will come here tomorrow in the morning for your orders. Goodbye for now."

He was gone.

'What an unusual change that has come over Gaston,' Belle thought as she began to busy herself with her daily chores.

The next day came before Belle knew it and she had Gaston go to work immediately on the small field of corn near the farm's open meadow. It was late August – harvest season – and although the crop was small, it was incredibly time-consuming to take care of. So Gaston worked from the early morning until the late afternoon, day after day, for the next four days. On the last day, when Belle came out to bring him some water, it was an exceptionally hot afternoon, the air heavy with humidity so much so that Belle could feel her clothes stick damply to her skin.

When she glanced at Gaston she felt her face grow hot in a sudden flush, for he had removed his tunic and was now laboring shirtless under the midday sun. Belle stopped for an instant and merely gazed at his broad shoulders and strong arms, the muscles in his back moving fluidly with every movement as he reached for a new ear of corn to throw into the collecting basket. The basket was soon full, and when he bent down and lifted it over his head, his hair tie came loose, letting his shoulder-length raven hair spill wildly over his shoulders, with a few stray locks falling over one eye. This gave him a rather youthful, devil-may-care air about him that wasn't often seen by anyone in the town. He _was_ youthful, about twenty-nine years of age or so by Belle's reckoning, which was why the village people had always found it odd that someone so handsome as he had never been seen courting a girl. Belle wondered at that, too, but then figured that he was more likely the kind to seduce a girl and then leave her heartbroken, and certainly not one to embark upon any official, public courtship.

She gathered herself from her musings and approached him after he dumped the corn into the larger collection vat.

She said, "Gaston, would you care for some water?"

"I would, thank you," he said gratefully as he took the pitcher instead of the glass, consuming every last drop.

He wiped the sweat from his brow with an ungloved hand but did not immediately tie his hair back, instead sitting down on a bench and leaning back for a rest. He breathed heavily and Belle's eyes strayed once more to his chest and abdominal muscles. She had refused to notice before how well-built he was because his personality was so odious, but now that he had changed, Belle began to even see in him a certain … beauty?

He glanced at her and smiled openly, artlessly, so unlike how he used to smirk and curl his lip at her whenever he passed her by in the street.

He asked, "What are you thinking, Belle?"

She was shaken out of her thoughts, "Oh, um, I was just wondering if the harvest was almost done."

"It is – about twelve square feet to go," he said, satisfied with himself.

Belle sat down next to him and looked serious, saying, "Gaston, I just wanted to thank you again for doing all of this. This is so generous of you –"

He furrowed his brow and said, "Belle, please. It's my pleasure."

"Well, thank you again," she said as she placed her hand on his.

This gave him pause. He wanted to kiss her lips more than anything at that moment, but he stayed his desire. That would be taking it too far, so instead he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly, breathing in the scent of her porcelain skin. He then rose up and spoke.

"Thank you for the water. By this afternoon I should be finished."

And so he went back to work, leaving Belle to finish her chores and then settle down to the book she had been reading for the last few days. As the sun began to set, Gaston came into the living room to announce that he had finished. The day had grown even more sultry and Belle could feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead and down her back.

She looked up languidly and said, "You must be exhausted. I'm sweltering in this weather."

He laughed and said, "Do you know where I normally go to cool down?"

She figured the tavern, but he didn't give her a chance to guess when he said, "There's a small pool near the creek up in the woods. I go there often when it's summertime," he paused momentarily, "Would you like to go?"

Belle said, "I don't know how to swim."

"It's shallow," he assured her. "And you only need to dip your feet in because the trees around it are dense and cool enough."

She bit her lip and asked, "How do we get there? It's far, is it not?"

He smiled proudly, "We'll take my horse."

Without knowing exactly what she was saying, Belle replied, "Alright."

The next moment, they were out the door and riding down the dirt lane, past larger fields and through rows of dark green trees, the crowning glories of late summer. The birds were out and about, preparing for the golden hour when the sun sets but the light still persists in a haze of muted glow.

Belle was sitting in front of Gaston with his strong arms around her, holding onto the reins. Despite the continuous bumps of the horse's hooves against the dry ground, she could still feel the man's breathing against her back, every rise and fall silently continuing, endlessly. It was then she realized how small she was compared to him, how her short stature only allowed her head to reach his chin and how her small frame was dwarfed by his immense torso. As her eyes strayed to his legs straddling either side of the horse, she noticed every sinewy curve of his robust thighs and calves. How could so much evident strength be contained in one man?

Their ascent into the wooded hills was easy and pleasant, and Belle was grateful to be rising out of the heat of the valley and into the verdant wilderness. Gaston gave his steed a kick and it picked up its pace into a steady trot.

"We're almost there," Gaston said in Belle's ear, giving her a surprising shiver down her spine.

When they approached a grouping of trees that were rather close together, Belle's eyes made her believe that there certainly could be no pool there, but just as she was about to inquire, the dark, shaded waters came into view as the sunlight faded behind the mountains high above. She had never known there was something like this in the forests overlooking the village, for she had never really ventured out this far. Gaston, being a hunter, knew those woods like they were his home and this water was his front porch.

He deftly dismounted and reached out to help Belle down, but her hem had gotten caught in the saddle, so when Gaston tugged at her, the tension eventually gave way and she fell into his arms. She involuntarily wrapped her arms around his neck for balance and when she saw his crystal eyes widen in surprise, she could not suppress a grin.

"Oh dear! I'm sorry," she exclaimed as she quickly drew away from him.

"It's alright, Belle … Well, here it is – my forest pool. Welcome," he said gesturing his arm towards the water..

He kicked off his heavy black boots and slipped out of his tunic astoundingly gracefully. He then rolled up his trouser legs and beckoned Belle to join him in sitting at the water's edge.

She took her seat next to him on the cool mossy ground and glided her feet into the glassy water, its coldness a bit jarring for it was fed by the melted snow of the mountains. The trees that encircled the pool seemed to be leaning over the clearing, attempting to catch the last gleam of light and covetously soak it up before all that was left was starlight.

"Gaston?" Belle began quietly, "I want to know what happened that night."

There is no such thing as absolute silence, for the soughing pines and the songs of birds could always be heard in the forest, the rippling brook ever speaking its thoughts to all who would listen, but at that moment it seemed like all had stood still and everything lay hushed. Belle suddenly regretted asking her question, but to her great surprise, Gaston began to answer.

"I fell down so far that I couldn't remember ever having started, and when I reached the bottom I hit the water so hard that I immediately passed out. By some miraculous turn of events, I floated on my back down the river, breathing as I went, or at least that's what must've happened because the next thing I knew I was lying on my side on a sandy bank. Heh," he laughed with a tinge of bitterness in his voice, "I think the river rejected me – someone so foul it didn't have the stomach to accept me."

He paused to collect his thoughts, all the while not looking Belle in the eye, and continued, "I was badly used and my head was spinning. I knew I had cheated death and that I destroyed my rival, but I felt so empty, Belle. It consumed me. I-I got no joy out of it. So I staggered home. I don't even remember how I got there, how I managed to return to the town. Sure, when everyone saw me people patted me on the back and congratulated me, but I couldn't feel their touch, couldn't hear their voices. I was numb to everything. I don't even remember how I got into bed, though I didn't sleep. I just didn't understand.

"The rest of that week is a blur. I just remember seeing your face when you came back and for once in my life I felt guilty on account of someone. I felt guilty when I saw your face, your eyes. I began to reflect on who I was and why I had lived. Why was I allowed to live when your Beast was the human-hearted one all along? You know, Belle, not a day goes by when I'm not reminded of that night. And I can't say enough how … sorry I am."

His last words were barely above a whisper as he bowed his head and furrowed his brow. He let out a sigh and finally looked her in the eye, which affected Belle deeply because she could decipher redness in his eyes.

"Gaston, are you crying?" she could not help but ask, astounded.

He hurriedly wiped his eyes and said, "No, no! Of course not."

"Gaston, I-I've never seen you like this," Belle said. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," his deep voice rumbled dejectedly.

Belle put her hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly, then she said, "I like this side of you, Gaston."

He straightened his back as though surprised and said, "But I'm a hunter. I make my living by taking life. People fear me, admire me, praise me. I've shed tears in front of you and all I can feel is broken and purposeless. I can't be like this, Belle."

She said sternly but kindly, placing her hands on his shoulders, "Gaston, the way you were before was completely vile. I held you in such great contempt that I cringed every time I saw you, but now that these past few weeks have shown me something more in you, I can actually say that I enjoy your company. I enjoy being with you, Gaston."

He furrowed his brow once more and searched her eyes, but he didn't look long, for they spoke such truth to him that his heart ached.

"Belle, I-I…"

She shook her head lightly and smiled faintly, saying, "I mean it."

Overcome, he took her in his arms and embraced her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his midsection and he placed his hand behind her head, gently stroking her chestnut brown hair.

"Belle," he whispered into her shoulder, "I think I love you."

She gasped. He let her go. His face bore worry.

"Gaston, I-I … I don't know if I can say the same. I just don't know."

A tear appeared in her eye and her lips parted as though to say something, but at that moment Gaston leaned forward, closed his eyes, and kissed her soft lips. She was shocked at first, but after feeling his own remarkably soft lips against hers, the tickling scratch of his stubble, and after breathing in his charming smell, she swooned and ran her slender fingers through his sable tresses. Their lips parted for an instant and when Belle gazed into his eyes she saw a Gaston that was sincere and, most surprisingly, she saw a kind tenderness in them that was wholly knew to her. She could tell the way he looked at her that he was in earnest. She knew. After all, someone else had once looked at her that way.

But wait! This was Gaston! How could she even think to profess a love of this man, even after all that he had just told her, even after looking into his eyes and seeing his genuine feelings show through, how could she bring herself to love him? Belle's heart felt like bursting and she gulped, looking quite distressed and not finding the correct words to say.

Gaston tried to apologize, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –"

"No! You said what you felt and that is very noble. You were being honest with me, which shows character."

"I understand, Belle. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Gaston, you fool, I said it was good you told me you loved me!"

"But I wouldn't have spoken if I had known it would make you this upset!"

"I'm not upset!"

"Then why are you yelling?!"

"Why are _you_ yelling?!"

"Because I love you!"

"Well, I love you, too!"

She put her hands to her mouth and gasped, her eyes wide in surprise. Did she? Did she truly? She was afraid to ask herself that question because she knew the answer was, indeed, a yes.

She breathed, "Oh, Gaston," and practically leapt forward to kiss his lips, but this time she thrust her tongue into his yielding mouth, causing him to emit a loud groan.

He found her on top of him, straddling his hips and towering above him with the smug look of a conquering heroine. He was surprised above all else. Was this Belle? Was this what it was going to be like? If it was, then he was more than satisfied.

He glanced at the water, then at his trousers, and then up at Belle, all the while with a mischievous grin on his face. He helped Belle off of him and proposed an idea:

"A light swim," he said nonchalantly as he quickly removed his trousers.

Belle gasped quietly and momentarily averted her gaze. He was completely naked as he pulled out his hair tie to let his jet hair fall over his shoulders once more. He glanced at Belle to see if she was looking, but was slightly disappointed that she wasn't.

"Belle," he said confidently, "Look at me."

"I'm sorry, but it's just that I've never seen …"

"What? A naked man? Haha!"

His laughter irritated her and she turned around indignantly, walking towards him with a pointed finger and saying, "Well of course I haven't, Gaston. I'm a single woman!"

He didn't notice he was standing on the small overhang of soil at the pool's edge.

He responded triumphantly, his arms confidently spread, "It's time you have seen one, and here I am at your disposal."

A sudden playfulness overtook Belle when she dared to glance at Gaston and where he was standing, so without a word and in one swift movement she reached out her hand to his broad chest and pushed him over the edge. The splash was tremendous, but what was more amusing was his look of wild surprise, with locks of his dark hair falling over his eyes.

He wiped the water from his face and said, "It's cold!"

He did not appear shocked for long, however, because a sly grin arose across his visage as he made for the edge and climbed out onto the dry earth, dripping wet as he walked towards Belle.

Belle knew what was coming and cried out, "No, Gaston! I mustn't get wet. No!"

He effortlessly carried her to the water and let her fall with a considerably smaller splash than his, though it was nonetheless edifying to see Belle indignantly stand up and wipe away the errant hair from her eyes just as he had a moment ago.

Gaston laughed heartily and said, "It serves you right, Belle."

He then slid back into the pool and stood before her, the water coming up to their waists. She splashed him in mock anger but she did not frown, instead trying her utmost to suppress a grin that was making its way onto her bright face. Unable to contain it any longer, Belle began to laugh sonorously in the light, airy manner that was peculiar to her voice. Gaston laughed as well and let himself sink under the water, only to jump up through the surface like a dolphin, splashing water here and there. As he lifted his arms to slick his hair back, Belle could not help but admire his attractiveness. She thought he looked much more appealing when wet.

Gaston let his eyes stray as they surreptitiously glanced at Belle's breasts, erect from the cold mountain water. Captivated though he was, he tore his gaze away and instead looked up at the trees in an attempt not to stare too long at Belle.

"Gaston, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing," he said, meeting her eyes once more. "It'll be dark soon."

"Yet it's still hot outside. I don't think I want to leave just yet."

"Who said anything about leaving?" he said as he slowly approached her and drew her into his arms.

She rested her delicate hands on his hips, sending a chill through his body. Never before had a woman made him feel that way when she touched him, and as he drank in the pleasure of her graceful fingers, he took her hand and slowly yet boldly led it down his chiseled stomach.

When her fingers felt a patch of curly black hair she breathed in deeply and Gaston whispered into her ear, "Just a touch – one well-received caress … so you know what I feel like. I'm yours."

He put her hand in his and guided it to cup his manhood, which was already half aroused. She did not flinch, but was instead highly curious. He held her hand in place for what seemed like an eternity, never once allowing his eyes to break contact with hers.

"Gaston, I don't know if I can give you what you desire right now."

"Belle," he said in an understanding tone, "I just want your touch. Now that you have seen me, have felt me, I feel very much satisfied."

A pause.

He ventured to ask, "Have you ever lain with a man?"

She looked down and shook her head.

"Have you ever felt the pleasure of a man's touch?"

"Gaston, what do you mean?" she said.

"Let's get out of the water. I want to do something."

Belle's heart began to race. What could it be? Did he expect her to lay with him right there in the forest? Impossible!

He got down to his knees and beckoned Belle to him.

"Belle, I want you to lie on your back. I think you'll like this, though it may feel strange at first."

Before she knew it Gaston had her dress around her waist and he was on his elbows and knees, reaching his hands out to ease her thighs apart. All she could see was the top of his raven head as he buried his face in the downy hair at the crux of her thighs. When she felt his tongue dart and dive at a spot that she had never before known was there, she cried out a piercing moan of pleasure. It felt as though he were going to bite her when he let loose hissing and sucking noises as he greedily licked her, seeming insatiable in his eagerness. She felt her hands run through his hair like she was trying to push him to go ever harder, to pound his head against her like an amorous door knocker. He needed no help, for he managed to sneak a finger or two into the moist crevice of her sex, knowing all too well that it would give her incredible pleasure.

She tightened her thighs around him and screamed. He lapped vigorously at her at the finish, drinking in her taste like it were honey, and then rose to his knees again. His member was completely aroused after his little diversion to her nether region but he tried to stay his desires for Belle's sake, lest he overwhelm her. So, he got up and jumped into the cold pool, allowing the water to do its work in calming his lust. Meanwhile, Belle sat up with a dazed look on her face and smiled towards him as he smirked knowingly at her.

"Gaston, oh, that was amazing. I've never felt sensations like that before. My heart is pounding."

His erection eventually retreated and he sighed, "I'm glad I could give you pleasure."

"You did," she said, moving closer to the pool's edge. "Oh, you did, Gaston – immensely. I couldn't keep silent while the man I love made me scream so."

She smiled demurely while his eyes briefly fluttered shut at those words. 'The man I love…' Those were the words she used and they meant everything to him. He removed himself from the water one last time and retrieved his clothing, dressing quickly before he and his lover were mounted on the horse and began to make their way back into town.

They rode silently, preferring to enjoy each other's company in the muted sounds of the early night when all was hushed and peaceful. Not a cloud covered the myriad stars that speckled the blackened sky, and the light of the gravid moon cast Belle's and Gaston's shadows over the endless yards of homey field and fence. When they approached Belle's door Gaston was trying to control his tempting thoughts of lifting her up, carrying her inside, and making love to her on the living room floor. He assumed she wasn't ready for that, but to his surprise she said:

"Please come in."

He felt the blood rush to his head and his vision blurred a bit.

He said in a hushed tone, "Are you sure of this, Belle?"

She nodded and took his hand to lead him inside. The living room remained dark, for Belle did not make the slightest effort to light the lamps, instead plying her hands to the buckle of Gaston's belt. She let it drop to the floor boards, which encouraged him to remove his tunic. His organ was beginning to ache. She removed her dress easily enough, wearing nothing but a pair of undergarments, but he felt he hadn't time to shed his trousers, so he unbuttoned them and unsheathed his now fully-grown member. His quick hands pulled her remaining clothing down below her knees and she let him take her in his arms.

His ragged voice breathed into her ear, "I'll go slow. Oh, Belle, my cock is aching."

As he stood behind her he seized her hips and shoved a hand between her legs, rubbing his fingers over her nether hair and letting them slickly slide in and out of her. She gasped in short breaths. They knelt to the ground and Gaston hunched over her backside, positioning the tip of his swollen prick at the entrance to her glistening flower. He eased his way in, causing Belle to furrow her brows at the pain of this new sensation. He felt enormous, but as he slowly began to thrust, Belle could not help but marvel at the new sensation of what she was experiencing. She was surprised that despite his ardor, he was quite gentle in his movements.

'Gaston is inside of me,' was the clearest thought that came to her mind in the flurry of visions and thoughts that incoherently raced through her head. She imagined his hulking frame bent over her, his hair falling down around his face as he wrapped his arms around her in that most intimate of embraces. She could feel the hair on his chest brush over her back as his body pressed against hers. She moaned loudly at every thrust, envisioning the muscles of his taught buttocks contracting and relaxing every time he moved. One of his insistent hands fondled her breasts while the other continued to rub the potent bud between her legs in an unbroken circular motion. He grunted and growled as his rhythm became slower and more methodical. He shoved his member in to the hilt and slowly pulled out, repeating this over and over again until he once more pushed inside, arched his back and moaned loudly, his body shaking and spilling his seed within her.

"Aaah Belle!" he groaned in ecstasy.

"Gaston!" she sighed loudly.

Moments later, urged on by his vocal release, Belle, too, came in a great shudder. Gaston stayed inside of her for a little while, savoring the residual pulsations of their now spent bodies, enjoying the moment of their oneness. He eventually pulled his half-limp organ out and lied down heavily on the floor, his chest heaving, with one hand behind his head and the other gently gathering her to him. She lied down next to him and lazily ran her hand over his chest while she let one leg rest atop both his legs. He delighted at the sensation of the felt-like hair between her thighs as it brushed against his skin. 'She was his!' he thought. That knowledge moved his heart to near eruption with unmitigated bliss and contentment. She was his and he was hers, and because of that, for the first night in a long, long while, Gaston did not feel alone.

After a few minutes went by in silence, Gaston tenderly said, "I want you to know, Belle, that I will protect you with my life at all costs. No harm shall ever come to you. I will stay by your side … but only if you'll let me."

She was taken aback and said, "Gaston, of course I'll let you! Don't say such a silly thing ever again. I _do_ want you by my side … always."

She could not see the wide smile on his face, but at her words of acceptance of him he quickly stood up, tucked his arms under her, and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. As soon as they were beneath the light covers, they were both fast asleep in each other's arms and dreaming deep dreams.

Belle awoke at first light, as was her wont, and she had momentarily forgotten that there was someone else beside her in the bed, causing her to start. She felt rather simple for having forgotten she had just spent the night with Gaston – and after confessing her undying love for him, no less. Her eyes roved his peaceful face as he lay unaware of her gaze. He was so handsome and she knew that a true change had come over him that was uncannily remarkable. Indeed, Belle never would have looked upon his chiseled features with admiration if he still harbored the same attitude of rude and inconsiderate narcissism like that of his previous self. No, his smoothed, unfurrowed brow as she now saw it bore no anger, but instead it belied a serene unguardedness, concealing no hateful dreams but instead projecting a much-desired attainment of peace. He looked happier than Belle had ever seen him.

When she tried to get out of bed without waking him, he stirred and she quickly turned towards two bright blues eyes dancing in the light and smiling up at her. He stretched his body as a cat would, carelessly allowing the thin covers to slide off his legs, revealing his nude frame with its pleasing curves and muscular contours, his raven tresses spread loosely over the cream-colored pillow, his broad chest gently rising and falling with each silent breath.

Belle lightheartedly said, "Gaston, why don't you wear your hair down more often?"

He sat up and raised an eyebrow, "Because people would think I was madman."

"I find it attractive."

"You do?" he said, pausing for a short moment. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"No? Hm."

A pause.

Belle giggled and Gaston asked, "What? What is it?"

"I was just thinking – wouldn't it be wonderful if we didn't have to wear clothes today? It already feels hotter than yesterday!"

"Haha!" he deep voice rumbled in amusement. "I would grow hard every time I looked at you, and then what would people say if they saw through the windows? They would raise an alarm."

"To protect me from you?" Belle archly said.

"Of course," he said grinning.

"They would think you were ravishing me."

As she said this she lied back and spread her legs slightly. The heady perfume of her scent wound its way up through Gaston's nostrils, dizzying him with desire. This was so unlike his and Belle's usual conversations, but Gaston found their innovative wordplay irresistibly titillating.

"They would, wouldn't they?" he growled through clenched teeth as he commenced stroking himself.

He kneeled over her, madly coaxing himself with a furious fist.

Belle faked a plead, smiling, "Oh no, Gaston. What are you doing here?"

He played along, saying, "I've come for you."

"Oh dear!" she cried, pretending to faint.

He eased his way into her, wherein she widened her eyes comically and gasped, "Oh, Gaston! You're huge! Yes! Yes!"

He sucked on her neck, satisfied with their innocent playacting, and made sure that his diligent fingers rubbed that miraculous spot under her downy hair so that she could truly say that he was the best lover to which all others paled in comparison.

He nearly came too soon when Belle's haunting voice surged in his ear, "No one fucks like Gaston."

He moaned loudly but continued to thrust, savoring his oneness with this woman, this true love of his who had accepted him wholeheartedly. Was this finally his contentment? Was this that certain magic that brought light to his otherwise gray existence? He couldn't think straight. He felt like an animal unchained … and he relished it.

Belle's fingernails dug into his back and she whined and moaned with every push and every rub, "Oh, Gaston! Gaston! GASTON!"

At that moment nothing else mattered. No one else mattered. It was just she and he together. She put her hands behind his head and brought his lips down to meet her own. His lips were so soft … she had once hated them … but now it was so different … she loved him … and he loved her.

They felt the climax together this time, their youthful voices spouting vibrations completely attuned to one another, and then they fell back in a daze, silent and calm.

After Belle and Gaston had gotten dressed, a knock was heard at the door and Gaston answered it absentmindedly. The elderly widow Madame Bissette was the one who had knocked and, not expecting to see Gaston at the door, had already jumped into her sentence before stopping midway to show her shock.

"Ah, Belle, I was just wondering if – Oh! Er, Monsieur Gaston! I – I was not expecting to see you here so early."

Her tiny eyes narrowed behind her small, round spectacles and her wrinkled face contorted in thought. Clearly her mind was hurriedly spinning from thinking of whom to tell first about what was surely going to be a town scandal. Just then, Belle appeared from behind Gaston and, clearly put out at not being able to get to the door first, smiled awkwardly and asked Madame Bissette what brought her there so early.

"Oh, Belle, it's just that I have run out of eggs and was wondering if you could spare two?" Madame Bissette said in the sweetest, most innocent voice she could muster.

Belle disappeared just as quickly as she reappeared holding two eggs out to the old woman.

"There you are Madame," Belle said nervously.

Madame Bissette did not thank her immediately, but instead gave them both a lingering look that smacked of blatant disapproval.

She took her leave saying, "Thank you, dear. Good day, Monsieur Gaston."

After Madame Bissette had disappeared down the road, Belle slammed the front door and sat down in a nearby chair, putting her head in her hands.

"This is a disaster," she bemoaned. "Oh, Gaston, WHY did you have to answer the door? And at this hour? It's too early for your usual work, so she obviously knows you must have spent the night here. Do you think she'll tell anyone?"

Gaston, who found town rumours to be hilariously entertaining, said with a grin, "By this afternoon the entire village will know."

Belle was nearly speechless, "Gaston! How can you be so calm?"

He strode over to where she sat and put a hand on her shoulder, stating, "Put your mind at ease, Belle. Who cares what the townspeople think?"

"You don't understand. The time after I came back from the castle everyone just assumed I had been the victim of imprisonment by a monster. That carried no stain on my honor, but this is different. We're unmarried."

"We could get married," he suggested.

"It wouldn't matter now, Gaston. The damage has been done."

He was growing irritated at the thought of the villagers treating him and his love any differently than they would have the day before, so he said, "We haven't committed a crime, Belle! I don't understand. I've had a bit of fun in my time, but no one's ever hanged me for it."

"That's because you're a single man. So long as you never became involved with any woman of good reputation no one in the village gave a thought to your escapades. But it's different for me."

"That's not fair!" he cried as he stamped across the room in a burst of indignation.

His naïve reaction put a momentary smile on Belle's face. How could he be so clueless? Of course it was only very recently he had begun to care about someone other than himself, so naturally the strictures of societal bonds put on women had never occurred to his former selfish mind. It was as if he were only now discovering how the other half lived.

Belle said, "That's how it is, Gaston. It's not fair."

"If that's how the fools here would behave towards the two of us then, well, then I … I think we should …"

He was too flustered to speak.

After a moment's silence he murmured, "This poor, provincial town."

Belle's eyes lit up and she said slowly, "That's been said before. Did you know that?"

He turned to her and smiled wistfully, "By you. Heh, I've known you've wanted to get out of here for a long time, Belle."

She rose from her seat and walked towards him, curling her arms around him and basking in his warm embrace that circled around her like a blanket that drives away a cold wind.

"I wish we could run far away from here," she said, her voice muffled in his chest.

"To the forest?"

"Anywhere."

"To Paris."

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and said, "Truly? To Paris? Have you ever been there?"

"Once, when I was a lad. It's a big place – so many noises, so many smells, so many people all together in one place, just going on and on. No one bothers each other there. No one knows each other there. You are free to do what you wish in Paris."

She rested her head on his chest again and said sullenly, "We have to be where you can hunt or else we'll have nothing to eat or sell."

"You're right … Don't worry, Belle. I'll take you away from here … We'll run away."

She looked into his crystal blue eyes and kissed his inviting lips, wishing that time itself would stand still.

"I love you, Gaston."

"I love you, too, Belle. And don't worry: we'll make good. I promise."


End file.
